


Balance Point

by Karios



Category: Baywatch (TV)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Episode: s01e03 Second Wave, Getting Together, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:00:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24741175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/pseuds/Karios
Summary: Finding the balancing point that keeps a surfboard steady takes a few moments. Finding their footing in a new relationship takes more time.
Relationships: Eddie Kramer/Craig Pomeroy/Gina Pomeroy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Fandom 5K 2020





	Balance Point

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phnelt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phnelt/gifts).



> Thank you to thinkatory!

Craig's always needed a bit of a moment to talk himself into things. He doesn't mean to be ruled by fear and opportunity cost, but both halves of his life, the lawyering and the lifeguarding, have taught him that anything can be taken from you in a moment. Knowing that he's helping, taking some time to plan and weigh his decisions, staves off the feeling that he's at the mercy of the winds blowing. Even if sometimes he literally is out there in the surf.

It's all the more reason why rules matter. And why he spends so much time thinking about what he should do and examining life from all the angles, usually with the sand under his feet. He's already got one major decision hanging over him as he leaves the firm, so it's easy to tell himself to ignore any other ridiculous impulses he's feeling inclined to follow lately. 

All that changes the moment they can't get a hold of Eddie's tower. “Please be at home,” he pleads as he speeds to the truck. That hope is dashed the moment Craig can see the flames engulfing the tower. He realizes in that instant, as the panic crests over him like a wave, that he'd feel the exact same way if Gina were up there. It's terrifying and among the swirling chaos of his thoughts is the incredibly selfish bargain that Eddie can't die now, not without knowing. _I'll tell him_ , Craig promises the universe silently. _Please, let me tell him._

Craig's down the beach and out of the truck in time to see Eddie dive out into the sand. Craig charges forward toward the man he loves, tugs Eddie upright, half-hauling him back toward the truck. Craig turns back to steal a glance at the wreckage as it falls and all he can think is _I was almost too late_.

“Are you okay?” he asks when they drape themselves over the truck. It's so inadequate for everything he wants to say, everything he wants to do. 

It’s also ridiculous because of course he’s not okay, even though Eddie says, “Yeah,” just before he lunges to tackle Jimmy back into the sand. A dark, vengeful part of Craig wants Eddie to pound Jimmy's face into something unrecognizable, regrets ever pulling Eddie off of Jimmy during their last tussle. No jury in the world could convict him, and Craig would be there to make sure of it. But Eddie does the smart thing and tosses Jimmy over to Garner.

* * *

They pop back to headquarters just long enough for Shauni and Eddie to change, and in the relative privacy of the changing area, Craig says, “I'm proud of you.”

“What for?” Eddie asks, shirt half over his head, and Craig has the strongest urge to reach out, run his fingers up along Eddie’s abs until he can set his palm against where Eddie's heart beats, verify with his touch that it's strong and steady.

Instead, Craig answers, “I might’ve killed Jimmy.” Although he’s proud of Eddie for a lot more than his self-restraint. For protecting Gina, for saving Shauni, for choosing to be the man he is instead of a heartless bastard like Jimmy, in spite of everything that's gone down in his life.

“No, you wouldn't.” Something Craig can't quite identify in Eddie's face and tone suggests that it's important Craig not contradict him, so Craig doesn't. 

Then the moment passes and the four of them all head out to the hospital in relative silence. Mitch fills a bit of it, but Craig's barely able to pay attention, too busy mentally berating himself for being this shaken up. He takes several deep breaths which seem to do little to steady the butterfly dance of his heart.

When they reach the hospital, unfamiliar cops take each of their statements; Craig relays his in a daze. Once they leave, Eddie turns to Craig. “You don't have to wait with us.”

“I want to. I can bring you home once they clear you.”

Eddie fidgets in his chair. “At least call Gina.”

“Okay.” Craig agrees because he does need to talk to her. He heads out of the waiting room and across the lobby to a bank of pay phones and dials his home number.

“I heard,” Gina says, immediately following the hellos. Craig thanks whomever, likely Garner, was kind enough and smart enough to let her know. “How’s Eddie?”

“They're checking him out now. He looks fine.” Craig tries to sound reassuring.

Gina sees right through it anyway. “No one could be fine after all that.” 

“I was so scared. We nearly lost him.” Craig's voice breaks at the end and he blinks hard, knowing that if he lets himself start falling apart now he'll only freak Eddie out.

“That’s one thing about the beach you’ll have to get used to. Its capacity to take away someone you. . . care about.”

It’s the slight hesitation that finally clues Craig in. For the second time that night, relief barrels into him. Gina knows about Craig’s feelings for Eddie, has known longer than he has, apparently. His brilliant wonderful wife knows and understands and he loves her for it. Craig thinks also that this changes something. His life. Their lives. They should probably talk about it. Not here on a hospital payphone, though, he supposes. “I love you,” he finally says. 

“I love you too. Get back to Eddie. Bring him home.” Gina hangs up. It takes Craig a moment to set down the handset, even as the dial tone buzzes in his ear.

Craig retains nothing else about his evening until both Eddie and Shauni return. They’re each given a clean bill of health: no lasting burns and no significant smoke inhalation damage. The trip back home is relatively short and thankfully uneventful, but by the time Craig and Eddie are alone in the living room, the adrenaline has worn off and Craig is losing his nerve.

His hesitation gives Eddie the chance to speak up instead: “I'll be out of your hair by morning.”

Craig stares at him in shock, the confession he swore he would work his way up to dying on his lips. Gina joins them in the front room. “Craig,” she admonishes as his silence stretches on.

Craig manages to find his voice again. “You want to leave?” Craig asks. “Did we do something wrong?”

Eddie surprises Craig again, this time, by laughing. “Because of me, the beach is down a tower. Shauni could've died. Gina was threatened in your home. I'm raining trouble down on you both.”

“Our home,” Gina corrects. “And our includes you for as long as you need it, we agreed.”

“Mrs. Pomeroy,” Eddie begins, as if the faraway look in his eyes isn't proof enough he is shutting down, pushing them away. “I've gotten that one before. Usually from very nice people, who meant it very much when they said it, I'm sure.”

Craig wants to say that they're different, that they can all figure this out. But for all that Craig doesn't understand about Eddie's past, he does know what it's like to have someone in your life who makes a bunch of pretty promises and then never follows through. Moreover, Eddie trusted him with the truth about Jimmy and Craig wants to repay that trust. 

Craig steps into Eddie's orbit, waits for Eddie's gaze to meet his, then levels with him. “When I rounded that corner today and saw your tower on fire, it felt like the world had dropped out from under me. And that's not because I give a damn what it cost the beach.”

Craig straightens up, and a little of the weight tugging on his chest seems to ease. He starts to pace as though this is an opening statement. This first foray into an argument that Eddie should not give up on him yet. “I know that nothing I can say can come close to washing away a lifetime of betrayal, but I don't want you to go. I'm never going to want you to go.”

“Bullshit,” Eddie all but snarls. He steps around to face Craig, his mouth twisting into an angry flat line. 

Craig opens his mouth to try and ask where he’s gone so wrong here, but he doesn't get through more than a syllable before Eddie plants both hands on Craig's chest and shoves. Craig stumbles backward even though there's next to no force in the blow. 

“You barely even want me here now,” Eddie adds. “Gina invited me and you complain every time I stay for breakfast.”

“Oh Eddie,” Gina cuts in. “That's how I knew. Craig is good at resisting the things he loves. It takes him a while to find his new balance.”

“Love?” Eddie snorts, a full-on snort through his nose that breaks into slightly hysterical giggles, and while it stings, it simultaneously gives Craig the courage to continue what he's started.

“Yes, Eddie, I love you. And Gina figured it out first because she's always been a little better at that sort of thing and she's probably been waiting patiently for me to get my head where my heart is.”

“Practically from the moment I suggested our storage room,” Gina adds, not so helpfully.

“My point is that I nearly ran out of time to tell you, twice now tonight alone. And I know that this is far from the best way to break it to you, and that we haven't gotten anything worked out yet, but if tonight is the only chance I have, I just had to say something.”

And then Eddie stops laughing at him, and looks at him without saying anything, and Craig's mind begins to whir. 

“I. . . I don't expect you to feel the same way. And I understand if you still want to go.” Craig keeps searching for words, but he thinks anything else he might say would merely dig him a deeper hole. Thankfully Eddie finds a better use for his lips, claiming them against his own.

“It's about time,” Gina mutters.

Eddie pulls back first, startles at the sound of Gina’s voice as though he’s forgotten she was here. “Does that mean you're okay with this?”

Gina nods. “I don't believe in having to choose between things you love; lawyer and lifeguard, husband and boyfriend. Though if you're feeling generous, I wouldn't mind kissing you either.”

Craig shoots Gina a fond smile. She steps over, wrapping her arms around both of them. When she and Eddie kiss, it's a little more polished, which only makes Craig want to try with Eddie again.

“Wait,” Eddie says, suddenly stepping out of their embrace. “Is this some freaky ‘thank god you're alive’ sex thing because I'm leaving in the morning?”

“Absolutely,” Gina replies before Craig can get a word in. “If we've only got one night, the freakier the better.”

“She's kidding,” Craig says. One night wasn't enough, could never be enough. Eddie wasn't a conquest, and if he was insisting on leaving, Craig couldn't torture himself like that. “Besides, we could all use some rest.”

“He's no fun at all,” Gina says, playfully shoving Craig. 

Craig smiles at her briefly, but he glances back to Eddie and the smile falls. “You’re sure about leaving?” 

Eddie tears Craig's heart in half, when he says, “Yeah. More than ever.” Then he turns and heads to his room. It's one hell of a mixed signal, and Craig stares after him for a long moment, before reluctantly getting ready for bed himself.

“Are you going to be okay?” Gina asks, as she and Craig snake their way under the covers. She throws one arm over his chest as they settle in.

“Eddie’s safe. That's what matters,” Craig says in that same I-can-talk-myself-into-this tone. 

“That's not _all_ that matters, and you know it.” 

“I shouldn’t have told him, Gina. It was too much. I'm sorry for dragging you both into this,” he says and borrows further into her arms. She pulls herself over to hover above him.

“Craig, pay attention,” she demands then waits until Craig focuses on her. “You didn't drag me into anything. That's an insult to Eddie and how charming and sexy he is all on his own.”

“If I didn't agree with you, I think I’d be insanely jealous right now,” Craig murmurs. “Wait, when did you. . .” he trails off, tries again. “Have you been in love with him for a while?”

Gina tips her head. “Not exactly. I don't know if ‘in love’ is even where it’ll end up for Eddie and I, but if he's interested I'm open to finding out. Whatever Eddie and I do or don't do, _you_ need to fight for him.”

“He wants to go, Gina,” Craig replies glumly. “You heard him.”

“I did,” she agrees. “I also saw him kiss you. Dare you to prove him wrong.” Gina eases down to steal a brief kiss of her own. “The man who got me to marry him didn't give up easy. Don't start now.”

* * *

In spite of surviving an evening that should be exhausting, Craig finds he can't sleep. Gina’s breathing has long since evened out to a steady rhythm beside him, while Craig tosses back and forth. He alternates between studying the ceiling and trying to talk himself out of going to check on Eddie. Eventually, he loses that battle, hauling himself out of bed. He cuffs each leg of his sleep pants with his toes, so he doesn't trip. Then hr shuffles out to find the kitchen light on.

After near-death experiences, confessions of love, and the looming threat that Eddie might still leave him anyway, Craig's not surprised he forgot to turn off the switch on his way to bed. He wouldn't have been surprised if he misplaced his left arm after yesterday. His hand is on the switch when he realizes there's someone in the kitchen, and he jumps away from the switch as he flicks it off, plunging the kitchen into darkness.

“What the hell, Craig?” Eddie asks, and then after a beat, adds, “I'm sorry. I just. . . we missed dinner and I —”

“You don't have to apologize. I was the one being an idiot. Of course it was you.” Craig flips the switch back again.

Eddie shakes his head. “I'm not normally in here in the middle of the night and with everything,” he pauses and waves vaguely with his fork, “you have every right to be spooked.”

Craig acknowledges that with more of a noise than a word. He glances down at Eddie plate where he's served himself a wedge of chocolate pie. Craig decides Eddie has a good idea there and putters about fetching a plate, a fork, the pie, and pouring himself a glass of milk. He shakes the gallon a little at Eddie, who nods, so Craig pours a second glass.

He moves his snack to the table and starts eating in what could best be described as a loaded silence. Eddie must agree because he asks, “What are you thinking?”

“I'd hoped I made that pretty clear before we went to bed,” Craig replies.

“You only said that because of the fire, you don't. . . you have Gina,” Eddie insists, growing flustered.

“I do have Gina.” Craig can feel his own heart start to pound so loudly, he is sure Eddie can hear it. “Are you asking me to choose? Is that what it would take to get you to stay?”

“No. God, no. What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“I don't think you're an asshole at all, Eddie.” Craig says with a sigh. He’s been married too long to fully remember how to do being vulnerable right, clearly. He turns his chair to better face Eddie, abandons his pie, and waits until Eddie's eyes meet his again. “Do you think I'm an idiot?”

“No,” Eddie answers, confusion written all over his face.

“I wouldn't go around outing myself to someone I thought would use that information to hurt me, not for something as silly as a fling. For one thing, I'm not nearly impulsive enough for that. For another, I don't know if you’ve noticed, but I'm not good at doing anything casually.”

Eddie laughs at that, and it sucks some of the tension from the room. “ _Everyone_ notices that. And that's part of the problem.”

Now it’s Craig's turn to be confused. “Why would that be a problem?”

“I haven’t had to be all in with someone in a very long time. And I don't want you and Gina getting hurt. Not because of some crap in my past or one of my old ‘friends’ and especially not because of me.”

“You're worth that risk.”

“You can't say that when you don't know what you're getting into.” Eddie set his face in his hands. “Jimmy wasn't some one-off bad choice.”

“Given that Jimmy was mad because you wouldn't kill someone, I'm guessing that none of those other bad choices ended in murder. You ever force yourself on anyone?”

“Never,” Eddie answers quickly and emphatically, looking as revolted as Craig feels asking.

“I thought as much, and I can live with anything else. Whoever you were, whatever you did back then, if it comes up, then it comes up. But it doesn't change the man you are now.”

Eddie stares at him, his gaze full of challenge. Then looks away and shovels in a mouth full of pie. “That's a load of crap.”

Craig goes back to eating for a moment too, until the right answer comes to him. “In rookie school, did Mitch give you the line about how your new life starts today on the beach?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I take some stock in that. You chose to be a member of Baywatch, and you're a damn good lifeguard, and that says more about you than anything. If there's something more you think I need to know, then you're welcome to tell me. Otherwise, I only have one more question.”

“Lay it on me.”

“Is this something you want? Because it doesn't matter whether being together is a great idea or a terrible one, if you're not interested. A kiss is nice but it's not the same as an answer.”

“Nice. I'll show you nice,” Eddie grumbles as he leans over. The chair creaks as it tips on one leg and sends Eddie crashing into Craig. Relieved of Eddie's weight as Eddie climbs over to straddle Craig in his chair, the other chair rights itself with a bang. Moments later, Gina appears in the doorway, caught halfway between looking relieved and annoyed.

“Hi, honey,” Craig says, over Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie, for his part, scrambles off Craig, and steadies Craig's chair this time.

“Would one of you care to explain?” she asks, biting down laughter. Craig wishes it was as funny as whatever she was imagining.

“I just came to get some pie. He wanted to discuss our feelings or some shit.”

Craig winces. Eddie started this conversation.

Gina directs her next question at Craig. “Are you trying to scare him off?”

“No.” Craig groans. 

Eddie speaks up then. “Then what do you plan to do about it?”

“This.” Craig gets up, pulls Eddie in by the waist, and kisses Eddie with all the weight of everything he’s felt. Fear and doubt and the flutter of hope and passion and ever-growing fondness. Maybe a kiss could provide answers because as Eddie kisses him back, Craig is suddenly free from any doubt that Eddie wants to be anywhere but here.

* * *

In the morning, Eddie can't say he remembers having gone to bed, even though it's bright in the rest of the place, which should mean he slept awhile. Eddie knocks as he reaches the kitchen even though the door's open. 

Gina chuckles. “Come in, Eddie. Coffee? It's a fresh pot.” He nods and Gina bustles about fetching a cup and filling it.

Eddie accepts the cup from her and takes a long sip. “What time is it?”

“Just past noon. Craig's down at the beach. Mitch came to check on you both this morning, but none of us wanted to wake you.”

“You sound like my mom.” He pauses, grimaces. “Well, not my mom," he corrects, "but somebody's mom. Like a mom from TV.”

Gina laughs at the awkward pronouncement. “Given I kissed you last night, I sincerely hope that the sum total of your feelings for me aren't motherly.”

Eddie pulls a face. “You've made it weird.”

“You started it by making me feel old.” For a brief second, Eddie almost expects her to stick her tongue out at him. Instead, Gina returns to her mug.

“You're not old,” Eddie says a split second later. “But, uh, could you clear something up for me?”

“I'll answer anything you want to know. You're owed at least that much after being blindsided yesterday.”

“Then, is this something you and Craig do?” Eddie isn't even sure how to phrase it, but he has doubts this a one-off regardless of what Craig says.

“What are you picturing?” Gina asks, her tone amused. “We regularly put out a classified ad asking for pretty younger men to join our marriage?”

“I don't know, maybe?” He is feeling terribly out-of-his-depth and he's sure it shows.

“No, we don't, and we don't go to exotic clubs. We're not bored, if that's your next guess. Believe it or not, you're special. Craig and I, each of us, fell in love with you.”

Eddie doesn't believe it. He can't believe it, not even for a second because the crash would be too far to fall from. He wants to ask why but it feels like too bold of a question. Besides it wouldn't matter what she said because he can't believe her.

She reaches out for his hand, stopping just short of his fingers. He's grateful for that, Gina giving him the choice. He takes hold of her hand after a moment and feels his mouth go dry. It freaks him out because he's always thought the line about butterflies in your stomach was a load of crap.

Gina runs a thumb over his fingers. “Breathe, Eddie. You're the one with CPR training and I'd be utterly useless if you pass out.”

The joke helps even if his laughter sounds weird to his own ears. 

Some part of him stops to wonder how he can fuck this up immediately and get hurting them out of the way. Not because he really wants to destroy their lives. Not at all, not now, not ever, but because maybe if he did it early enough, they could just agree that loving Eddie Kramer was a relatively minor blip in their otherwise perfect little home and lives.

The alternative, that he leads with his feelings until life inevitably blows up on him—because life will fuck this up somehow, _that's_ inevitable—putting Craig and Gina at risk of blowback or shrapnel, is feeling more terrifying by the minute. 

Gina squeezes his hand. “If whatever you're thinking has you calling me Mrs. Pomeroy in that tone again, then stop thinking it.”

This time the laughter that spills out in response is more genuine.

“You made me feel positively lecherous,” Gina complains, and Eddie can't decide whether she's being serious.

He answers her as though she is all the same. “You're not old enough, and far too attractive, to be considered lecherous by any even remotely straight man on Earth.”

Gina smiles at him from just above the rim of her mug. “Thank you. Is that really all you wanted to know?”

“No.” Eddie shifts side to side, studies his reflection in the remaining coffee. “Why me?”

He watches Gina's face flicker as she mulls it over.

“Tell me the answers you're discarding like bad cards from a poker hand,” Eddie interrupts and Gina actually tsks at him in mild disapproval.

“Generalities and bumper stickers replies such as I'm married, not dead. Well, starting with the obvious and most shallow: you're gorgeous. You're also polite, have a healthy sense of adventure, loyal, compassionate. . . and I like men who set out to save the world.” She reaches out, sets her hand over his again. “Does that clear anything up?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, and he clasps his hand around hers so that when she stands up Gina pulls him with her, and then they're looking at each other and inching closer. . . 

. . . until the two of them are making out in the kitchen as if he's always held Gina in his arms.

Their mouths work furiously against each other as Gina drives him backwards, until she's got him pressed up against the counter, her fingers digging into his sides for purchase. It’s easy to forget all of his objections, even if just for a second, when everything is so physical.

Gina’s hands slide down toward hips with intent, and that is what snaps Eddie out of it. He slides his lips down to the column of her throat, pressing another kiss there even as he says, “Gina, we can't.”

“I thought you didn't want to talk about this,” Gina says.

“Maybe I was wrong. We should.” 

“Okay, why can't we do this then? Because you’ll know more about what you're going to be missing if you’re still planning to leave?” Gina steps away. “How do you expect that to work anyway? Do you really think your self-imposed sacrifice outweighs the heartbreak? I'll miss you around here, but it’ll be even worse for Craig. He’ll have to see you every day, work with you, hang out with you, all without ever letting on how much he wants. . . more.”

“It’ll be just as hard for me,” Eddie replies, meaning it. He’s falling for both of them, in spite of everything that makes this a terrible idea. He can't possibly fit into this life, so built for the two of them, without causing a few cracks.

Why couldn't Craig and Gina see what was so obvious to him?

“Better to break our hearts now than to ruin the rest of your lives,” Eddie insists, rehashing his main argument.

“I know you think you’re protecting us, but Baywatch is a danger magnet, it predates you. Whatever else might happen won't be your fault, but walking away is.”

“It’s not just the danger. It's my main problem, yeah, but also you and Craig already have something here. How can you be so sure it’ll work with three?” He hates being this honest, and part of him desperately wants to just bolt.

Gina smooths her hands down his upper back, rubbing the tense muscles under his shoulder blades. “We can't be sure. We can only decide we care about each other enough to try.”

“Gina, you make pretty good arguments,” Eddie concedes.

“I have some experience.” She drops a kiss on his cheek. “I have an errand or two to get to, would it be okay if I stepped out for a while?”

Something swells in Eddie's chest at the way she asks, not the way Craig or Mitch would have, like he needed the supervision, or like Cort would have, as if to insinuate Eddie is lost without his company. No, just a genuine offer of her company if he wants it. As though she owes him the consideration.

“I'll be okay, and I’ll be here, when you get back.”

Gina shoots him a smile as she leaves. “Thank you.”

* * *

That night they have dinner together, chatting over a couple of pizzas, as though nothing has changed. They all go to bed as normal too, separating to their rooms without further discussion of the past couple of days. Craig is too relieved at Eddie’s apparent decision to stay to want to question anything then, but the following night, Craig glances around their bedroom and feels like a bit of an idiot. Doesn’t this arrangement prove Eddie’s point? If Craig wants to prove that the love he feels for Eddie is more than a passing diversion, that what he’s feeling is irreplaceable, then he’s got to show him.

If Eddie is going to fit into their lives, then the least they could do would be to include him in the bedroom. Instead, here Craig is going to bed with his wife as he’s always done while Eddie falls asleep in a literal closet. The symbolism isn’t lost on Craig. “This isn’t right,” Craig says.

Gina shoots him a wary look. “What isn’t right?”

“Us going to bed, in here, without Eddie. He should be here, shouldn't he?” 

Gina nods, scoots a little closer to the edge on her side of the bed. “Go ahead and ask him.”

Craig heads down to Eddie’s room, and knocks on the door. Eddie lets him in, looking surprised and almost unhappy. Craig frowns. “Sorry, was I interrupting something?”

“Just my nighttime sit ups,” Eddie says with a smirk. “It’s your room, anyway, come on in.”

Craig does, though his frown deepens at Eddie’s response. “It’s supposed to be your room,” he says, “Though that's what I came to ask about. Do you want to move into the bedroom? You don't have to, if you're more comfortable having your own space.”

“I, uh, it's not that I don't appreciate it,” Eddie begins.

“Too much too soon?” Craig guesses. “Sorry. I just. . . I wanted to fall asleep next to you.”

Eddie doesn't say anything. Craig inches his way toward the door, stops and turns in the threshold. “Could I spend the night in here then, instead?”

Eddie thinks then gives Craig a bit of a wicked grin. “Depends, are you always going to be this much of a sap about it?”

“I happen to like being a sap,” Craig says, his hands on his hips.

“I know, I know. You might find you don't like bunking with me,” Eddie opens his mouth to say something else, but Craig interrupts again.

“Can I be the judge of that? What do you snore or something?”

“No.” Eddie stares at Craig for several moments, and Craig just waits him out. Eddie rolls his eyes, waves him back in the room. “Don't say I didn’t try to talk you out of sleeping on the floor all night.”

Craig fetches his pillow from the bedroom, and settles in next to Eddie. They talk for a while about nothing of consequence, share a soft kiss or two, and by the time Craig falls asleep snuggled against Eddie's side, he's perfectly content.

So it's all the more jarring to be woken by a swift punch to the midsection with enough force behind it to make Craig's eyes water. “Eddie?” he rasps, confused.

When he gets no response, confusion gives way to panic. Craig sits up, and calls Eddie's name again, louder. Meanwhile, his eyes search for an intruder that isn't there in their dark and quiet room.

Eddie groans then wakes. “Wha?” He glances over at Craig where his eyes go wide with recognition. “Shit.”

“Why’d you hit me?”

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks instead.

“I’ve been hit worse,” Craig assures him. “Though there are better ways of waking me up if you needed something,” he adds, proving he’s not about to drop it.

Eddie throws an arm over his eyes, lets a growl of frustration out at the ceiling. “I know that. I get nightmares. Sometimes, I. . . I fight back for real. It was why I turned you down with this whole sharing beds bit, when you asked the first time, but then you looked so damn hopeful, I caved.”

Craig grins at that and he’s sure Eddie thinks him a dopey idiot, but he doesn't care. “That's downright sweet.” 

“Only you could get socked and call it sweet,” Eddie complains, but Craig chooses to see it as fond exasperation.

“What helps?”

Eddie lifts his arm off his eyes. “Hm?”

“With the nightmares. What makes them easier? Anything I can do?”

Eddie shrugs. “No one's been around long enough to ask that question before.”

“Really? Not even Shauni?”

“The McClains aren't really the spend the night type. And when I have, I just make sure not to do a lot of sleeping. Not always like that,” he finishes.

“I didn't say anything.” Craig holds his hands out in surrender.

“You were thinking it.”

“Maybe, but that's only because I want you so badly.”

Eddie gives him a look with heat behind it, his eyes widening a little as he processes what Craig just said, and once again Craig's world shifts. “I'm right here.”

Craig rolls over, straddling Eddie’s waist, and plants what he hopes is a searing kiss on Eddie's lips. He relishes in the way Eddie gasps in surprise before his lips part, moving against Craig's. Craig grinds their hips together.

Somewhere, where his rational mind still chugs on, unimpeded by the rush of arousal and attraction, Craig is smart enough to know that sex can't possibly be a solution to trauma, but for now, he just wants to chase away the fear and doubt clinging to Eddie like a second skin.

He pulls away to draw his gaze toward Eddie’s face, as he runs his fingers along the skin of Eddie’s waistband. Eddie nods, reaches down to help Craig tug off his sleep pants.

They don't get any more sleep that night.

* * *

“You two totally had sex last night and didn't even have the decency to invite me to watch. I had to use my imagination. I demand details immediately.” Gina makes this declaration, when Craig and Eddie show up to breakfast the next morning, without even fully looking up from the stove. 

Craig fetches the orange juice. “Gina, stop it. Now you're the one who’s going to scare Eddie off.” 

“I have to get my fun somewhere, since some people are busy,” she retorts.

They both start laughing. A still slightly confused Eddie decides to pour coffee. Gina slides the last few crepes onto the serving platter and brings it to the table, Craig moves over to transfer the warmed syrup to a serving boat.

“Eddie, can y—” Craig starts, but cuts himself off as he spills, cursing under his breath.

“Grate cheese?” Eddie guesses in the absence of further direction. “On it next.”

Eddie moves the mugs to the table, and fetches the grater from the middle drawer. Gina mops up the spill as Craig moves the syrup that did make it in the boat to the table. Eddie’s still grating when Craig and Gina sit down, and Gina steals a pinch of cheese from the pile he’s made. Craig grabs the grater from Eddie a moment later, and rinses it off. Gina gives him a grateful look, pleased he’s given her and Eddie a moment of relative privacy.

“I really was kidding. I'm happy for you two, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, it's nice to hear though. This is all nice,” Eddie admits. Good, Gina thinks, Eddie deserves oceansful of peaceful domesticity, and she's overjoyed to share hers.

“Someday my weird sense of humor will be obvious as my kitchen layout.” She leans over to kiss him sweetly.

Craig contradicts her as he reclaims his seat. “No, it won't. Gina’s an enigma.”

Gina throws a strawberry at Craig's head. He catches it with his teeth.

“Showoff,” Eddie and Gina complain at once; they all laugh as they tuck into breakfast.

* * *

Craig sees to it that Eddie and Gina head out of the house not long after breakfast. While they're gone, he has the mattress in the bedroom replaced with a set of three twin beds. He knows Gina won't mind; the firmness of their joint mattress has been a compromise for years. More importantly though, he hopes this will mean Eddie can join them without feeling like he’ll ruin everyone's night's sleep. He ties a sloppy present bow on the bedroom door with a note: “Try out what's inside. P. S. I don't want details.” 

Craig heads down to the beach grinning. He doesn't believe that a set of beds are enough to cement their happily ever after or anything; there is plenty left to work out among the three of them. It hasn't even been a week yet, after all. 

All Craig can do is hope this gesture proves he’s trying. 

He is pretty sure it worked, when Mitch stops Craig after his shift with a message. “Gina called. Said to thank you for the mattresses. And that they, quote, work wonderfully. If I don't know better, I'd think she was having an affair.” Mitch shoots him a look full of concern. “Are things okay at home?” 

Craig laughs. “Trust me. They've never been better.”


End file.
